


Taking Hits

by pillar_of_salt



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: F/M, Gen, a touch of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillar_of_salt/pseuds/pillar_of_salt
Summary: Taking a bullet for the Secretary certainly wasn't in Nadine's job description, yet here they were. Post-S3. No character death, I promise.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord, Mike Barnow/Nadine Tolliver
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In 2.13, Russell Jackson covers up part of a report to give the President deniability. He urges Nadine not to tell Elizabeth, saying that as Chiefs of Staff, "that's our job - we take the hits so they don't have to."

Elizabeth let out a deep sigh. She pulled her glasses off her face and tossed them aside, pressing her fingers into her temples to massage away the faint headache that had settled between them. She was supposed to have been home in time for dinner tonight, but the President's office had other plans for her.

Nadine regarded her sympathetically. "Why don't we pack it in for the night? All of this can keep until the morning."

"Nadine, you've been in the office today even longer than I have. I don't understand how you can still be so chipper," Elizabeth groaned. They were the only two left here at this ungodly hour; Nadine had allowed the rest of the staff to depart earlier in the evening since they didn't need a full staff to finish reviewing the report. They were working at the sofa in Elizabeth's office, and Elizabeth was practically melting into the cushions at one end while Nadine was perched primly at the other.

"I didn't have a three-hour meeting with the Swedish delegation this evening," Nadine pointed out. "That would've taken the wind out of anybody's sails." She began to gather all of the papers that were strewn across the coffee table before crossing the room to place them on Elizabeth's desk.

Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"And anyway," her Chief of Staff continued, "things have been a little too calm around here lately. I was beginning to think that the world had forgotten that we…"

Elizabeth waited for Nadine to finish, but the other woman had fallen silent. "That we what?" Elizabeth asked.

No response.

Elizabeth opened her eyes. "Nadine?"

Her Chief of Staff stood behind the desk, frozen in place. She was holding onto the wood in a white-knuckled grip, staring straight ahead. Something was wrong. Elizabeth followed her gaze.

From her position on the couch, she could just barely see the figure of someone standing in the doorway, though she couldn't see who.

Nadine quickly remedied that for her. "Mr. Wilson," she said softly.

Wilson. Scott Wilson? The night custodian?

Nadine had released her hold on the desk and lowered her arms to her side, forcing calm. Her one hand was blocked from view, but Elizabeth could just barely see it moving along the underside of the desk, slowly. Where the panic button was.

With the other hand, directly in Elizabeth's line of sight, Nadine made a gesture with her thumb and first two fingers. Gun.

Elizabeth tensed. What was going on?

"Mr. Wilson, can I help you?" Nadine asked. Calm under pressure.

Elizabeth got up slowly.

The man moved forward into the room, and Elizabeth could see that he indeed had a gun at his side. With every step that he took, Nadine took a step sideways, moving in a smooth arc so that she remained between Scott Wilson and Elizabeth the whole time.

What did Nadine think she was doing?

"Scott," Elizabeth said sharply, moving out to the side, "what is this about?" She could hear the pattering sound of footsteps out in the bullpen - diplomatic security. They usually kept a bare minimum presence on the seventh floor - even less when it was late and she was one of the only ones in the office. Maybe they needed to reconsider some of these policies.

"Scott!" Elizabeth repeated. The footsteps grew louder as DS got closer. She knew that Wilson could hear them too because he set his jaw and raised his gun. He cocked it.

And then several things happened at once.

One of Elizabeth's agents burst into the office with his own gun raised.

Nadine stepped in front of Elizabeth at almost the same instant that Wilson fired. The bullet went directly into Nadine.

The agent fired. His bullet went directly into Scott Wilson.

A squad of DS agents poured in.

Nadine violently stumbled backward from the force of the shot. She collapsed into Elizabeth, who braced her under the arms and lowered her to the floor. A dark red stain was quickly spreading across the top of Nadine's blouse.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Elizabeth's ears rang from the gunshots and her heart raced with adrenaline and low-grade panic, but she forced herself to suppress it so that she could address the immediate damage. It looked like Nadine had been hit in the upper chest, just below her collarbone. Elizabeth yanked off her own cardigan, bundled up the fabric, and pressed it to the wound hard, trying to stem the flow.

Nadine made a small noise of pain. Elizabeth searched the other woman's face. All the color had drained from it, and she looked like she was very much in shock.

One of the agents knelt down next to her. He said something to her about a medic team, but she had a hard time focusing on his words. Then he put his hands over hers, trying to take over. She refused.

"I've got her," she said, not once taking her eyes off of her Chief of Staff. She tried to keep the edge of panic out of her voice. "Just go and make sure the medics get up here as fast as possible!"

The agent stayed at her side, but in her peripheral vision she saw a few of the others sprint out of the room at her directive.

"I've got you, Nadine," she said again.

Nadine didn't answer, but her eyes were trained on Elizabeth's face. They were a little glassy with pain, but focused, which Elizabeth took to be a good sign. She assessed the injury. Nadine was bleeding so much. It was passing right through the delicate chiffon of her blouse and saturating the fabric of the makeshift gauze with a quickness. Elizabeth pressed down harder.

"I'm going to lift you a bit to check for an exit wound, okay?" She gently rolled Nadine partway onto her side, making the other woman groan. There was nothing. She laid her back down.

"Fuck," Nadine muttered.

Elizabeth could have laughed, if the situation wasn't so dire. Nadine never cursed.

When she looked up again, her agents were leading a medic team toward her, with a gurney trailing behind them.

Elizabeth let them take over, backing away to give them space to work. One took over applying pressure to the wound, another lowered the gurney to floor-height, and another used a large pair of shears to cut away at Nadine's blouse. They ripped open packets of gauze and pressed it against the bleeding. They tossed the soaked cardigan to the floor in a wet pile by Elizabeth's feet.

Nadine was lifted easily onto the gurney, with one medic on top of her to keep pressure on the bleeding as the others wheeled them toward the elevators at a sprint. Elizabeth trailed right behind them.

"Ma'am, we need to -" one of her agents said, matching her stride.

Elizabeth was having none of it. "I don't care. I'm riding with her, so you guys can just follow us to the hospital."

"Madam -"

"I'm not leaving her," she snapped. Her eyes were trained on Nadine's face. Her Chief of Staff looked in danger of passing out. "Stay with us, Nadine," she called out.

When they loaded Nadine in the ambulance, Elizabeth clambered in after the paramedics. She grasped Nadine's hand in both of hers, holding onto it tightly, and Nadine squeezed back with weak pressure.

The ambulance screamed through DC traffic, and when they reached the ER bay, a team was already standing by to receive them. They whisked Nadine away before Elizabeth could even blink. She stepped out of the ambulance on wobbly legs and let out a shaky breath.

A young nurse lingered by her side. "Will you be okay, ma'am? Were you hurt?"

Elizabeth stared at her, the words requiring some additional time to process. "What? Oh, no, no I'm fine. Where - where are they taking…?"

"She's going into surgery. Shall I show you to the waiting room?" The nurse placed a gentle hand on her back, pushing her forward. She steered Elizabeth into the waiting area and sat her down.

"She lost a lot of blood."

"Some of the best trauma surgeons in the country are working on her," the nurse reassured her. "She's in good hands. Do you… do you have someone you can call? Someone to wait with you?"

"My security detail should be here any minute and I guess I should call my… my husband…"

"Well, in the meantime, do you think you could fill out some paperwork for your friend?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know too much about… I don't think I can -"

"Do you know if she has any family in the area? Relatives we can call? A next of kin?"

Elizabeth considered the question. "Her son is out of country. She has a sister, but I don't know where she lives." Her stomach sank a little. Surely she should know more about her own staff? Three years in the office, and was this all the personal knowledge she had to show for it? Sure Nadine was a private person, but even so.

The nurse patted her on the shoulder and said, "That's okay. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" And quietly excused herself.

Elizabeth slumped further into the cheap plastic seat.

She was shaking. If Nadine died, her blood would be on Elizabeth's hands. How had it come to this?

She felt herself creeping toward panic again and bent forward, lowering her head between her knees, trying to stave it off. _Inhale_. She trained her eyes on the black specks of the floor tiles, counting them. _Exhale_. She curled her hands into fists. _Inhale_. She pressed her nails into her palms, then released them just as fast. _Exhale_. They were still gritty with dried blood. Nadine's blood was _literally_ on her hands. Fuck. _Inhale, inhale, inhale, exhale._

Elizabeth rubbed her fingertips together and watched the residue crumble off of them. She stared at the stained cuffs of her shirtsleeves. _Breathe._ She needed to clean herself up.

She was about to get up to find a bathroom when her detail began to file in, strategically taking up residence around the waiting room and down the hall. She acknowledged them with a grateful smile.

Matt approached her. "Ma'am, the man who shot Ms. Tolliver is Scott Wilson, a -"

"Janitor. Yes, I recognized him. I just don't understand why he had a _gun_." Wilson had been a replacement custodian for Diego Molina, following the conclusion of her family's stalker case. Just where in the hell was State finding these fucking janitors?

"DS and FBI are processing everything now, ma'am. Wilson is dead, so there isn't as much information as we would like, but I'm sure we'll know more in a few hours all the same."

 _Wilson dead. And hopefully Nadine won't be._ "Okay. I, um, I think I left my cell phone in the office, and I really need to go clean up, but do you think you could call Henry for me? Tell him to go meet with the FBI. If this somehow has something to do with Julius Burton's stalking campaign still, we need to know that immediately." It wasn't unheard of for hits to be ordered from a jail cell. They thought the Burton affair was long over, but what if they were wrong?

"Yes, ma'am."

"And then call Blake, please. See if he can't lift my and Nadine's belongings from the office and bring them to me."

"Of course."

"Thanks, Matt." Elizabeth padded down the hallway to the Ladies' Room and shouldered her way inside. She was barefoot. She'd kicked her heels off sometime after her dinner meeting with the Swedes (was that really just hours ago? It felt like ages) and hadn't spared another thought for the things all night. She'd gotten a little preoccupied what with trying to do her desperate best to keep Nadine alive.

She scrubbed at her hands and wrists until they were raw and red, using several pumps of foamy hospital soap and running the water as hot as she could stand it. It swirled pink down the drain. She dried her hands and then rolled her sleeves up over her elbows, folding away bloodstains. She would trash this blouse later.

When she returned to the waiting area, Daisy was sitting there. She was wearing yoga pants and a pullover; had probably rolled right out of bed and out the door.

"Daisy, what -"

Daisy pulled her into a tight hug. "Blake called us. He's at the office now; told me to let you know that he was able to grab your things and that he's on his way here. Matt and Jay are on their way too, but I live closer than they do. How's Nadine? Are you okay? Oh my god. What the hell happened? The nurses couldn't tell me anything." Her press secretary had a tendency to babble when she was anxious.

"Scott Wilson, the night custodian, came in while we were working, pulled a gun on us. Nadine _literally_ threw herself in front of me when he took the shot. She… she's in surgery now."

"She's going to be okay, right?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth whispered.

"Oh my god." Daisy fell silent for a second, stunned. Then she asked, "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. The FBI is looking into it. I'm sure we'll know more soon."

"Is there anything we can do at State?"

"It's not our area. Wilson was subcontracted by the department, but he's not technically a State employee. There's nothing for us to do but wait, really. And be there for Nadine."

Daisy nodded, somber. "I just can't believe it. Do you think… have you called Mike B?"

Elizabeth hesitated. "Mike B?"

"Yeah; you know they've been… that they're together. I think he'd want to know."

Elizabeth had known that there was something between her old friend and her Chief of Staff, but she'd forced herself not to pry out of respect for Nadine's deep-felt sense of privacy. Hopefully this news wouldn't scare Mike B half to death. "You're right. I'll call him, Daisy." Elizabeth squeezed her arm reassuringly. "Let's sit down, okay?"

They sat there in silence, and it wasn't another minute before Matt and Jay barrelled through the doors, both looking just as panicked as Elizabeth felt.

"Madam Secretary is she -"

"Blake told us that Nadine -"

They spoke over each other, the rest of their words unclear as their sentences tripped over each other. Their worry was obvious though, and Elizabeth gave them the same information that she'd given Daisy, feeling even more ashamed by it with each passing minute.

 _This is my fault. If she dies, it will be because of me. It's_ my _fault._

Her staff was close. Marsh's death had devastated them. If Nadine died too it would break them. How could Elizabeth possibly make that right again?

She urged Matt and Jay to both sit down, and then the four of them huddled together in silence.

When Blake finally strode into the waiting area, his arms were laden with items that were decidedly not his own. He greeted them all before depositing everything he was carrying into the empty seat beside Elizabeth.

"I have your phone and your purse and your briefcase and your coat; your heels are in here, and I brought you a change of clothes and flat shoes," he handed her a bag, eyeing the errant specks of blood on her blouse grimly. He looked down, speaking quietly so that only Elizabeth could hear him. "I figured you'd want it. There was, um, a lot of blood on the floor. And I took the liberty of tossing your cardigan."

God, her office must have looked a horrific mess.

"It was," Blake said, "but not as terrifying as what actually took place, I'm sure."

She didn't realize she'd said that out loud. "Thank you, Blake," she said softly.

"And I have Nadine's work phone," he continued, "and um, I didn't feel comfortable going through her things, so I only grabbed her purse out of her office." He separated Nadine's things into their own neat little pile. "Figured she'll need it."

He said it decisively, but Elizabeth could hear the plea underneath it. _She'll need it, right? She'll be alive to need it, won't she?_

"Thank you, Blake," she said again. Elizabeth grabbed her phone, put on the shoes, and took the change of clothes he brought her. "I'll be back."

As Elizabeth walked to the bathroom again, she scrolled through the notifications on her phone. A few missed calls from Henry, a couple texts each from Jason and Alison. She ignored them for the moment, pulling up Mike B's number instead. She sealed herself in the bathroom stall as she listened to the line purr. He finally picked up on the third ring.

"Bess, there had better be a damn good reason for you to be calling me at three in the -"

"Mike, it's about Nadine."

A beat. And then, "What happened? Is she okay?"

"She - she got shot. I'm at the hospital now." She could hear him inhale sharply on the other end. _Damn it, I'm sorry Mike._ "She's in surgery."

"Which hospital?"

"GW."

"I'm on my way." _Click._

Elizabeth dialed Henry next. He picked up on the first ring.

"Babe, are you okay? Matt told me what happened, but I've been so worried. How's Nadine?"

"Still in surgery. We um, don't know anything yet."

"She'll make it, Elizabeth. She's made of strong stuff."

"She lost so much blood," Elizabeth said. And then, in a whisper, "It's all my fault, Henry. He was aiming at me and she stepped in front of it."

"Babe, Nadine knew exactly what she was doing, and what she did was _brave_. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault but Scott Wilson's."

Elizabeth blinked back tears. If she kept talking about Nadine and her bravery she was going to fall apart. She drew a steadying breath before changing the subject. "Did the FBI learn anything about his motives?"

"They're reasonably sure he wasn't working for Burton."

"Reasonably?"

"Well, they still need more time to exhaust the possibility, but so far there doesn't seem to be any connection between them. Santangelo procured warrants for Wilson's phone and all of his computers, and they are scouring them as we speak."

"But then why would Wilson…?"

"Seems like he was just mentally unhinged. And babe I gotta tell you, State's doing a really bang-up job contracting these custodians."

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

"Anyway, his wife used to work at State up until a month ago - she got laid off during the downsizing epidemic; committed suicide soon afterward."

"Oh, no. And I'm guessing… he blamed me for it."

"As the head of the State Department? Yeah. It's possible."

"And Nadine got caught in the middle of it." Elizabeth sighed.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm praying for her."

"Me too. Okay. Um. I'll talk to you soon, Henry. Keep me updated."

"I'll meet you at the hospital as soon as I'm done here. I love you."

"I love you, too," Elizabeth said, and hung up. She gave herself a minute to regain her composure, then changed into the clean set of clothes. On her way out of the bathroom, she balled up her ruined blouse and tossed it into the trash.

When she returned to the waiting room her staff rose out of habit. She waved them down, slumping down in the empty seat between Blake and Jay.

"Any updates?" she asked no one in particular.

They murmured in the negative. There weren't.

"Well," she offered, "I just spoke to Henry and it seems like the FBI's initial conclusion is that this was an isolated incident. Turns out, the guy's wife used to be a State employee who killed herself after being let go. And he was just unhinged enough to..." Well. _Try and kill me. Shoot my Chief of Staff. Act out a death wish._

"Is there anything we can do, ma'am?" Matt asked her.

 _Focus, Elizabeth._ "Ah, yes, actually. You and Daisy will need to put together a statement for the press, and Jay, we _really_ need to review State's custodial subcontracting agreement because clearly, current regs are just not cutting it. You and Blake should go through it together, but guys, there's no rush on anything. It can all wait until morning."

"With all due respect, ma'am, all this waiting is making me crazy," Daisy said, "and I can't just sit here and do nothing." She considered something for a moment, then said, "I want to be there for Nadine when she gets out of surgery, but until then I need to do something useful."

"We could all stand to do something useful," Jay agreed. He turned to Elizabeth. "Ma'am, if there's nothing else you need, I think we'll go and try to straighten out this shitshow." He got up, and Daisy and Matt followed his lead. "You'll text us with every update?"

"Of course. And guys, please just… stay out of my office. It's not pretty."

They acknowledged her with grim faces and the three of them left. Blake stayed behind.

"Are you sure you don't need anything, ma'am?" he asked.

"I'm okay, Blake."

"Is Dr. McCord meeting you here?"

"Just as soon as the FBI kicks him out of their lair."

"Did you call Nadine's sister?"

She shook her head. "I meant to, but I didn't have her number."

"I lifted it for you." Blake withdrew a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. A phone number. Bless that boy.

"Where does she even live, anyway?" she queried.

"San Francisco. Even if she took the next flight out, she wouldn't get here until late in the morning."

"I see." Elizabeth dialed the number, and the woman who answered sounded so much like Nadine that Elizabeth faltered for a second.

Nadine's sister promised to catch the next flight out from SFO.

"We'll send a car for you when you land. I'll give you my assistant's contact information so that you can update us once you have your flight itinerary, okay?"

She talked with the woman for a few more minutes. Just as she was ending the call, Mike B appeared in the waiting area. Elizabeth turned to Blake (who seemed very confused by Mike's presence) and told him to go back to the office to make all of the necessary arrangements for Nadine's sister. "I'll be fine here, Blake, thank you."

"Yes ma'am. Mr. Barnow," he acknowledged, and breezed out of their way.

"Bess, what happened?" Mike asked. His voice was rough - whether from lack of sleep or an abundance of worry, Elizabeth couldn't tell. Probably it was both.

Ruefully, she said, "Nadine, in what was perhaps the most misplaced and frightening display of a sense of duty that I have ever seen in my three years in Washington, took a bullet for me. And I _don't_ mean that metaphorically."

Mike blew out a long breath. "She told me she was just working late. In your _office,_ not a _shooting range -_ how the hell was this even possible?!"

Elizabeth gave him all the information she had.

"Well," he said, but stopped. He started again. "Well, the rumor is that you can't kill her unless you throw a bucket of water on her, so she'll probably be okay." He tried for his usual snark, but lacked his usual bravado.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

Mike put his hands up. "Hey, I don't subscribe to that theory; I'm just saying. It's a Washington thing. Well, mainly it's just a lowly-peons-of-the-State-Department thing, but who's counting. Have the doctors updated you yet?"

She shook her head.

"Do you think," he began, but his voice broke and he didn't continue. He looked away from her.

"Mike, I'm _sorry,_ " she tried.

He didn't say anything. He stared at the ground for a long moment. And then somberly, he asked, "Did you call her sister?"

"Yes. She's catching the next flight to DC."

"And her son?"

"Didn't know how to get ahold of him."

"I don't, either."

They lapsed into silence.

"You don't think…" Mike said, but trailed off again.

She knew exactly what he was trying to ask, even if he couldn't bring himself to voice it. "I don't know." That answer still scared her.

"Can't lose her," he murmured, but it was so quiet that he might have said something else altogether.

Before Elizabeth could ask, a nurse approached them. "Excuse me… are you here for Nadine Tolliver?"

"Yes," they said.

"I wanted to let you know that she pulled through the surgery just fine. She's lucky; the bullet shattered her right clavicle, but didn't puncture any major organs. It'll be painful, but the doctor expects that she'll make a full recovery."

They both let out a massive sigh of relief.

"Can we see her?" Elizabeth asked.

"Of course. She's still resting, but I can take you back to her room," the nurse said.

Elizabeth gathered Nadine's things and then the nurse led them further into the hospital. She stopped in front of a private room. "The anesthesia should wear off soon, but you can go inside if you like. I'll leave you two here," the nurse said, and excused herself.

Through the window, Elizabeth could see Nadine's sleeping form propped against a small pile of pillows. Her right arm was immobilized in a sling. She looked small, so… fragile. Elizabeth could hardly believe that this was the woman who had stopped a bullet on her behalf.

"You go in," she told Mike. He looked more distressed than she'd ever seen him, although he was trying valiantly to hide it. She handed him Nadine's belongings. "I can wait."

"Thank you." He went inside, set Nadine's things down on the side table. Elizabeth watched as he leaned over her and tenderly stroked her hair away from her face before dropping a kiss on her forehead. He pulled up a chair to her bedside and took Nadine's free hand in both of his. He brushed his lips over it; once, twice. And then his shoulders begin to shake. Elizabeth looked away.

As she walked back to the waiting area, she fired off a quick text to Blake. _Nadine out of surgery. Will text when she's awake and ready for visitors. Tell the others._

Blake's response was almost instantaneous. _Oh thank God._ Followed by another. _Her sister is scheduled to land 11:30, Dulles. Will pick her up myself._

She felt like she could breathe again.

Henry was in the waiting room when she got back out there. He reached her in two big strides and wrapped her in a tight hug. He pressed a kiss into her hair. "I was so worried," he murmured. "I'm so glad you're alright. How's Nadine?" He pulled back to look at her.

She smiled brilliantly. "She's going to be okay." The relief was working its way through every inch of her body. "She's out of surgery. I think we can go see her in an hour or so; give the anesthesia some time to wear off."

Elizabeth quickly felt her energy flagging. She was running on next-to-no sleep and next-to-no caffeine, and with the removal of the stress of not knowing whether her Chief of Staff would still be around in the morning, there was nothing left to spur her on. She decided to take advantage of the lull and shut her eyes for a bit. She pulled Henry over to an empty row of seats and stretched out across it, laying her head in his lap. He automatically began to card his fingers through her hair, and it soothed her to sleep in seconds.

She was being shaken awake a couple hours later, and when she opened her eyes it was to see Mike standing in front of her. She was still sideways in Henry's lap, but Henry helped her to sit up properly before he got up himself.

"I'll let you two talk. I'm going to go find us some coffee," he said, and left.

Elizabeth brought her hands up to try and massage out the crick in her neck. "How is she?"

"Awake. Still a little woozy. She's asking for you."

"Did you get to spend some time with her?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. I'm going to swing by her condo and grab some things. I'll be back later."

"Okay. Is she up for lots of visitors? Staff's been worried sick all night."

Mike raised an eyebrow skeptically, scanning the empty waiting room as if searching for the evidence of this.

Elizabeth elaborated, "I sent them back to the office so that they could keep busy. Told them I'd call when she woke up."

He nodded. "She's game for visitors. Might be good to keep it brief, though. She's in a lot of pain, even though she won't admit it. She refuses to let the nurse up her drug dosage." He rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I can talk some sense into her," Elizabeth offered. She tried to smooth down her rumpled clothing. They talked for a few more minutes when Henry reappeared with three coffees and a large bouquet of flowers in his hands.

He passed out the coffees to Elizabeth and Mike, then displayed the flowers out in front of him. "Does this appropriately convey 'Thank you for saving my wife's life' or should I spring for a bigger arrangement?" he asked. "The options in the gift shop were pretty limited, but there's a really nice florist in Georgetown that I could -"

"Henry, please!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Too soon?"

"Yeah, a little too soon," Mike said. "But a really nice bottle of scotch might do the trick."

"While she's on medication? That just seems cruel," Henry said doubtfully.

"Give it a few months then." Mike suggested. "But I mean _nice_ \- she has expensive taste. Anyway. This has been fun, but if you'll excuse me, I would like to get a jump on the rush hour traffic and Nadine lives on the other side of the city. Thanks for the coffee, Henry; Bess," he said, and left them.

Henry and Elizabeth walked back in the direction of the post-op rooms together. She sent Blake a text: _Nadine's awake._

"So Nadine and Mike…" Henry mused.

"I know right?! I was just as surprised as you are."

"I'm glad he's there for her," Henry said.

Blake texted her back. _We're on our way. ETA 10min._ She put away her phone.

"Me too," she said. _You deserve to be happy,_ she'd told Nadine once, and it was still very much the truth _._ She hoped that Mike made her happy.

They reached the room, and Elizabeth tapped on the door before going in.

"Madam Secretary," Nadine rasped, "Henry." She followed them with her eyes, but Elizabeth noticed that she didn't move her head. Her right arm was braced across her stomach, and she held her shoulder stiff as a board. With her free hand, Nadine gestured at the flowers that Henry held. "Those are lovely. You really shouldn't have."

Elizabeth sat in the chair by Nadine's side while Henry placed the bouquet in an empty plastic container, arranging them on the tray at the foot of the bed.

"Speaking of things that shouldn't have been done," Elizabeth said in a strangled voice, "can we _not_ throw ourselves in front of a madman next time? I mean it, Nadine. It is hardly in your job description."

Nadine chuckled. She countered, "Part of my job is to take the hits."

Elizabeth turned to her husband disbelievingly. "She's making jokes."

"She's still high on pain meds," Henry suggested amiably. He moved to the other side of the bed and bent down. He kissed Nadine on the cheek. "Thank you for saving her," he said earnestly.

Nadine blushed lightly. "Anytime, Henry." She slid her eyes toward Elizabeth. "Don't be so hard on yourself, ma'am. I'd _probably_ do it again."

Elizabeth laughed. "You know you almost killed Mike B," she accused. "I thought he was going to collapse from the stress."

"I like to keep him on his toes."

"I hope he makes you happy," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. "I can make his work life hell if he doesn't." And she was only somewhat kidding.

"I guess he does alright." Nadine gave a small smile, looking a little embarrassed to be discussing her personal life with her boss.

"Are you in pain? Mike said you weren't drugged up nearly enough." Elizabeth examined all of the monitors attached to her Chief of Staff, as if she could figure out how to rectify this problem on her own.

"He's coddling me," Nadine replied, amused. "If they gave me any more drugs I wouldn't be able to think straight. I'm perfectly fine, ma'am, I promise."

"Okay," she relented. "Well, then are you up for a crowd? The staff's been worried sick about you. They've been working all night, but they're on their way now."

"I could use the distraction," Nadine said gamely.

"Your sister is on a flight in, by the way. She should be here in a few hours."

"My sister?" Nadine asked, surprised.

Elizabeth nodded, but before she could respond, there was a sharp rap on the door, and then Blake, Jay, Daisy, and Matt all tumbled into the room, with an excited chorus of "Nadine!" Blake and Daisy each held bags of takeout food while Jay carried a small vase of roses. Matt trailed a bundle of brightly colored balloons behind him.

"It is so good to see your face," Matt told Nadine as he struggled to get all of the balloons through the door. He docked them on the tray next to Henry's flowers, and Jay set down his roses down next to those.

"We brought breakfast sandwiches," Blake added. "Nadine, you probably can't eat this, but the rest of us are _starving_ , so if you don't mind…?"

Nadine laughed. "Thank you, guys. Truly." She beamed.

Elizabeth and Henry backed out of the way, leaning up against the wall so that the others could pull up seats around Nadine. The relief and sense of goodwill in the room was palpable; they all chattered excitedly as they unloaded all the food and passed it out. Jay turned in his seat and thrust two wrapped sandwich parcels into Elizabeth's hands before she could protest.

"And by the way," he told her casually, "State will no longer be taking on custodians from ZMG Industrial; we're subcontracting from a new company now."

"Already? It's not even…" she checked her watch, "It's barely five-thirty in the morning. How did you manage -?"

"We were angry," Jay said, and shrugged. "We made it happen." He turned back to the conversation that the rest of them were having, immediately jumping in to banter with Daisy. Nadine was laughing at them, but lightly, taking care not to jostle her fractures.

"Did you hear that?" Elizabeth murmured. She handed over a sandwich to Henry. "Amazing."

"You're lucky to have them," he said.

"I am. I really am."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations Nadine has with others in the weeks of her recovery.

**_Elizabeth_ **

"You realize that you could have died?"

The non-sequitur, thrown into the middle of their quick debrief in the Secretary's office, took Nadine by surprise.

She nodded cautiously; for one, because she was unsure of where this conversation was going, and for another, because her freedom of movement was still impeded by healing bones. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes." She adjusted the strap of her sling where it pressed into her neck.

"Don't be flip."

"I'd never dream of it, ma'am."

It was her second day back at work. The entire staff had been unreasonably excited to see her yesterday; there had been cake. The morning meeting had been pushed in favor of a welcome-back party, and she'd been told that Blake and the Secretary had been especially aggressive in spearheading the arrangements.

But the Secretary, even after all that, even while relieved to have her back, seemed stiffer than usual. When they were alone, she treated Nadine with a faintly chilly regard - very different from their usual relationship - and Nadine wasn't exactly sure why.

"It was _this close_ to your heart." Elizabeth, rather inaccurately, held her fingers apart an inch.

"It could have been _your_ heart," Nadine pointed out. She was and would continue to be absolutely unapologetic about what she'd done. Just as she'd told Elizabeth in the hospital - she'd probably even do it again.

"That's not the point! You could have _died_! Easily!"

Nadine was bewildered. "Ma'am... are you... are you _angry_ with me?"

"No, of course not, that would be ridiculous." But then, with some shame, Elizabeth looked away.

Nadine waited.

"Maybe a little. I know that's ludicrous."

Nadine said softly, "It isn't. I'm sure it was difficult to watch." She could still recall the look of abject fear on Elizabeth's face as she'd screamed at all her agents to bring up the medics as fast as possible. It was one of the only things she could remember about that night, because she'd then lost consciousness fairly quickly. Regardless, it wasn't an expression she ever wanted to see cross Elizabeth's face again.

"Terrifying," Elizabeth admitted. "But I wasn't the one bleeding out next to the coffee table."

"Well, you probably helped save my life. And I never thanked you for that." She peered up at Elizabeth, who was still avoiding eye contact. "Thank you."

"Don't be ridiculous. You saved mine."

"So then we're even," Nadine said simply. She wasn't interested in keeping score with the Secretary. She began to gather up her files one-handed and then rose from her seat, ready to take her leave.

"Nadine."

She paused.

"Seriously. Please don't ever do anything like that again. You'll give me a heart condition."

Her lips twitched. "I serve at the pleasure, ma'am."

As she walked out, Nadine avoided glancing at the spot on the floor where she'd nearly been killed. The carpet had since been replaced; the stain wouldn't lift, so the entire thing had been thrown out instead. But still, the memory did not come up with the carpet.

* * *

**_Stevie_ **

There was a knock at her door. Nadine looked up to see, with some surprise, the willowy figure of Stephanie McCord hovering uncertainly in her doorway, wearing a sharp skirt suit and a White House badge. She wrung her hands anxiously.

"Stevie? Come in," Nadine said, putting down her pen and pulling off her glasses.

Stevie shuffled in slowly. "I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Tolliver..." she said haltingly.

"Not a bother. But you just missed your mother; she left for a meeting at the White House..."

"I know. I'm not here to see my mom."

"Oh?"

"I - I wanted to see you."

Nadine gestured for her to sit, and the girl lowered herself into the chair that faced her desk. "What can I do for you, Stevie?" It felt faintly awkward. She'd never had reason to talk to any of the Secretary's children before - if they needed something, it was typically taken care of by Blake, or on occasion, Daisy. And now here was one who had sought out Nadine of her own volition.

"My dad told me about what you did that night," Stevie began, "in mom's office." Briefly, her eyes flicked to Nadine's sling. "And I um... I just wanted to say thank you. I know that doesn't really mean much, but my siblings and I… we're so grateful. Truly." She spoke in fits and starts, with an artlessness that betrayed her youth. But her sincerity was obvious, and it endeared her to Nadine.

"You don't have to thank me," Nadine said, and she meant it.

"Well, we are. Thankful, I mean. Um, my mom said that you'd just come back to work, so I wanted to come and say hi. I don't mean to take up too much of your time."

Nadine smiled warmly.

Stevie's eyes slid to Nadine's lame arm again. "Does… does it hurt?" she asked timidly.

Nadine thought about it. The truth was it hurt like a _bitch_. Her entire upper-right side throbbed in constant discomfort, and if she so much as turned her head too fast or made the slightest contact with her shoulder, the burst of pain that would follow was nearly debilitating. Even with the strong pain medication she'd been prescribed (and of which she was reluctant to take as many as instructed, especially now that she was back at work and needed a clear head to do her job), the simple fact was that she was too old to take such grave injuries without serious repercussions. The healing process would take its sweet time.

But, "It's not so bad," she said.

Stevie blushed and ducked her head, embarrassed to have asked such a bold question. "Well. If you need anything, I would be more than happy to help. I mean, I know you have your own interns and everything but if you needed an extra hand -" she winced sheepishly at her choice of words "- um. In a manner of speaking..."

Nadine chuckled. "Well that's very kind of you, but I'm sure Russell Jackson's office is keeping you very busy -"

"Actually, it was Mr. Jackson's idea. He agreed to sort of loan me out, um, to State - well to _you_ specifically - if you had use for an extra intern." The words tumbled out of her with eagerness. "I wouldn't be a bother. I can stay out of the way and I learn fast."

"Um," Nadine said.

"Or it doesn't even have to be office work. I don't mind if it's just getting you coffee, or… or picking up your dry cleaning." She seemed to just be making up tasks as she went along.

Nadine couldn't help but chuckle. "Stevie, you're the daughter of the Secretary of State. I can hardly reappropriate you into my errand girl." She wondered if such a presumption might get her shot again - this time by the Secretary.

Even if she needed another intern (which she didn't - she was perfectly capable even with one less hand), she didn't think she would risk it.

Stevie shrugged easily. "You could. My dad says it builds character."

"Well. I appreciate your offer, but I can manage just fine. You can tell Russell Jackson that," she added.

The young woman rose gracefully, recognizing a dismissal when she heard one. "Of course. If you ever change your mind, the offer is totally on the table for… well, forever." She turned to leave but then spun around again just as fast. "Oh! I almost forgot." She fumbled with her purse, reaching into the depths of it to produce a beautifully embossed gift box, which she handed to Nadine. "This is from me and Alison and Jason. I know it's kind of weird to give gifts for getting shot, but there isn't really a rulebook for this kind of thing, and I didn't want to show up empty-handed, so…" She trailed off, sounding almost nervous. "My mom says that you're a tea person."

Nadine gave Stevie a confused look before she turned her attention to the offering and obligingly opened the lid. Inside, several small jars of loose tea were nestled side by side, housed in metal tins with richly-colored labels. An engraved silver teaspoon lay alongside them. It was a luxurious set.

"Oh, Stevie…"

"It's from England," Stevie offered. "I had my fiance's parents send it over. It's their favorite brand, so I… I think it's good."

"This is beautiful," Nadine said, touched. "And so thoughtful. Thank you." She stood up and rounded the desk to give the tall girl a tight, one-armed hug. "And thank your siblings for me, will you?"

Stevie smiled brightly, looking relieved. "I will."

* * *

**_Russell_ **

"You sicced Stephanie McCord on me?" Nadine walked alongside Russell down the seventh floor hallway. He'd stopped in this morning to interrupt the staff meeting.

Russell turned, looking up from his phone briefly before looking down again. "She kept asking me questions about how you were doing. Questions I couldn't answer."

"So you decided to resolve this by trying to 'give' me her labor?"

"Yes. Which you turned down, as I was told."

"Yes, because notwithstanding the fact that she is my _boss's daughter_ , she's also a girl, not a book. You can't just _lend_ her to me."

Russell shrugged it off. "She's my intern; I can lend her where I please. And I'll have you know that she was determined to do something for you; I was just providing the opportunity." He was still scrolling through his emails. "You're missing out, by the way. She's a damn good intern."

"I don't doubt that."

He nodded toward her slung arm. "And you're missing your dominant hand. You can't tell me you're not struggling. She could be a big help, you know."

"I'm ambidextrous," she deadpanned. "I'm managing."

He looked at her, surprised. "Interesting."

"You know, if you were so worried about me, Russell, you could have just asked." She was bemused and mostly teasing.

He looked back down at his phone. "Wasn't worried. You're made of steel; knew you'd pull through. Although," he added dryly, "getting shot wasn't exactly what I meant when I said that part of our job was to 'take the hits'."

"Well, I take my responsibilities seriously."

"Obviously." They stopped at the elevator bank. As the doors opened, Russell stepped inside before he tossed parting words back in her direction. "Try to stay alive between now and next month. That Italian state dinner isn't going to plan itself."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations Nadine has with others in the weeks of her recovery.

**_Blake_ **

When Nadine walked into her office that morning, there was a steaming cup of tea, a banana, and a carrot muffin already waiting for her on her desk.

She paused at the door and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She shifted her coat off (having draped it, essentially cape-like, over her shoulders) and hung it up on the coatrack before walking over to settle in her seat. The only other person who ever came in this early was...

"Morning, Nadine."

She looked up.

Impeccable and unruffled as ever, Blake strode into her office and settled himself in front of her desk. He spread the Secretary's scheduling notes over his lap and poised a pen over them, ready for their morning run-through.

Nadine pulled her own copy out of her bag and laid it on her desk, nudging the muffin out of the way. "Good morning, Blake," she said. "Did you put this here?"

"I did. Carrot muffins are your favorite."

She thought it was a rather astute observation, considering that he couldn't have had much information to go by. She hardly ever ate much of anything at the office. "They are. You didn't have to do that, though," she said, even as she couldn't resist breaking off a piece of it and popping it in her mouth.

"Well - and I am fully aware that this is not my place to tell you this - you need to eat so that you can take whatever post-surgical medications that I know your doctor's prescribed. And like the Secretary, I know that you often forget to eat when you're stressed or busy. Or… just busy," he amended, furrowing his brow. "I don't know if I've ever necessarily seen you stressed." He glanced down to check the day's itinerary. "And today it looks like we're going to be very busy."

She quirked an eyebrow. "I don't need your coddling, Blake."

"I wasn't offering it."

"And this is highly -"

"Unprofessional?"

Not exactly the word she was going to use, but now that he brought it up, she couldn't say he was wrong. "Kind of."

"I recognize that," Blake said. "But I would argue that the entire situation is irregular and therefore exempt from the usual rules of office etiquette."

She paused, and then switched tactics. "I'm perfectly capable of -"

"I know you are." He flashed her his mild, professional smile - the one he reserved for petulant diplomats and other difficult people.

"Blake," she warned. But they were three years into their working relationship, and that tone no longer worked on him. He wasn't afraid of her anymore. Unfortunately.

"Nadine," he said, in the same inflection. "Look, it's the least I can do. I just want you to be okay. You should just do me the favor of letting me… well, do this."

She gave him her best death glare but he merely stared right back, unfazed, and she had to let it go. She sighed, trying to ignore the triumphant smirk that Blake was fighting to keep off of his face, and slipped on her glasses. She gingerly bend over the Secretary's schedule. "So then. The first order of business is the meeting with the Swiss ambassador at nine-thirty…"

When they finished, Blake quickly gathered up his papers and got up to go back out to his desk. He eyed the mostly-whole muffin on hers meaningfully. "Remember - three meals a day. I'll be back at noon with your lunch." He dashed out before she had a chance to respond.

/

True to his word, Blake reappeared in her doorway at twelve o'clock with a carryout bag in hand. He pulled a rather large container of Greek salad out of its depths and placed it in front of her with a flourish. "There you go. It's from that new Mediterranean fusion shop on H Street."

"Did you feed the Secretary, too?" Nadine asked dryly.

"Of course," he said, waving away her question dismissively. "She's already taken care of."

Nadine popped off the lid of the container and picked up her fork. "Well, thank you Blake, but this is really _so_ unnecessary."

"You only have to endure it for the next week."

" _Week_?"

"Maybe two weeks if I'm feeling especially uncharitable." He grinned, taking open pleasure in her indignation. "Oh, also, I saw that the Roennfeldt woman had to reschedule her appointment with you - did you want me to go ahead and make the changes on your calendar?"

"You realize that I have my own assistant, right? _And_ my own interns?"

"All due respect to them, but I have far more confidence in my own capabilities."

She smirked. "I think they can handle this without screwing me over. They haven't failed me yet."

He put up his hands in surrender. "Your faith in others is admirable." He got up. "I'll be at my desk if you need anything, Nadine."

* * *

**_Jay_ **

Jay knocked on her doorframe as she was wrapping up for the evening.

She glanced up as she carefully tried to slide a few briefs into her handbag, creatively using all five of her fingers to perform a two-handed task. "Hey, Jay. What's up?"

"Are you leaving?"

"Just about to."

"Great; me too. I'll walk with you," he said, even though she hadn't asked. "Do you need help?" He approached her desk and took the files from her hand, placing them in her bag for her and closing it up.

She grinned sheepishly. "Thanks." She reached for her bag, but he didn't give it back.

"I'll carry this for you," he offered easily, even though - again - she hadn't asked. He slung it over his shoulder and she chuckled, both at his unnecessary offer and how ridiculous he looked modeling her handbag, but let him. They walked out of her office together.

"You don't have to coddle me," she began, the same speech she'd had with seemingly everyone lately, but he denied it. Like everyone.

"I'm not coddling you, I swear. I'm just trying to be helpful. You literally only have three working limbs."

She'd learned, these past few days, that it was a futile effort to try to keep them all from helping her - they all understood that she didn't need it, but it didn't stop them, and so she was learning to just let it be. It didn't hurt anyone. The office was still a tight ship, and really their concern was very sweet, if a little stifling.

"Well you guys had better be careful," she said. "With everyone waiting on me hand and foot, all this power is going to go to my head."

"It's well-deserved." They waited for the elevator. "But you're showing the rest of us up, you know. There's no way we can possibly compete for the Secretary's favor after that."

Nadine laughed outright. "Are you kidding? _You're_ the one who's always getting into trouble whilst doing her bidding. Honestly, we needed a better redistribution of misfortune around here." The doors opened and they stepped inside before she turned to him again. "First you got Marburg virus, and then -"

"Almost! Almost got Marburg virus!"

"- you got kidnapped. As a _diplomat_. I mean Jesus, Jay, it's about time someone else started giving you a run for your money."

"So are you saying that you and I are equal in the Secretary's eyes?"

"Not even close. I nearly _died_ for that woman."

"Fair enough," Jay conceded. They stepped out at the parking garage. "I can't top that." He followed her to her car, obediently slowing his gait as Nadine reached into her purse, still hanging off of his shoulder, and fished out her car keys. He eyed her dubiously. "Is it safe for you to be driving with one arm?"

"It's not so bad." She unlocked her car, and Jay pulled open the driver side door for her, leaning in briefly to deposit her purse on the passenger seat. He straightened and turned back to her.

"Maybe you should have Mike drive you into the office. You know, just until you get that sling off."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Where did you -"

"Hey, I know things."

"I'm going to kill Daisy," she muttered.

"Daisy didn't give you up. Mike did."

"He _told_ you?"

"No, of course not," Jay said, waving away the suggestion. "But he looks at you with the most lovesick puppy dog eyes every time he comes into the office; it's honestly ridiculous." He shook his head, but he was smiling a little, too. "But I… trust he's taking good care of you at home?"

Nadine tried to keep herself from blushing. This was _not_ a conversation she ever envisioned having with Jay. "I am well taken care of at work and at home," she promised.

Jay grinned. "Good." He pulled open the door wider, stepping back so that she could get in. He waited until she got settled, and said, "Drive safe," and shut the door after her.

* * *

**_Mike_ **

Her bedside clock read three-thirty when she jerked awake in the middle of the night. Her heart felt like it was trying to pound right out of her chest.

Just another nightmare.

Gingerly, Nadine sat up. Her chest heaved, and her shoulder throbbed horribly from her unintentionally swift movements. She swiped beads of sweat from her forehead and took a few controlled breaths, trying to bring her heart rate back down.

The dreams had begun even before she'd left the hospital, but had increased in frequency upon her release. Probably something to do with the psychological processing timeline.

"Nadine?"

"Go back to sleep," she said softly.

Mike touched her thigh. "Nightmare?" His voice was sleepy. He rose up on an elbow to see more of her.

"Yeah. I'm okay." She brushed it off, even though she knew he wouldn't. Mike had been nothing but attentive and sweet through her recovery, even when she woke up in the middle of the night - which, lately, had been every day of the week. He was a fairly light sleeper, and he always woke up when she did. She felt bad for it, even though he said he didn't mind. He'd insisted on wanting to be there for her when it happened, no matter when it happened; that he wanted to be able to make her feel better. And he did - she could admit that at the very least, it was nice not to be alone.

He searched her face in the dark of the room, stroking her skin soothingly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Just more of the same," she said, still a little breathless.

It was the shooting, of course, played over and over again in her dreams, at varying levels of brutality. Sometimes she got shot again; sometimes the Secretary got shot; sometimes they both did; sometimes it was some other (equally violent) mishap altogether. Since she hadn't been entirely conscious throughout the actual episode, her imagination liked to fill in all the gaps creatively.

Perhaps it was worse than usual, tonight, but the general trauma behind it hadn't changed, and so there was really nothing to be discussed.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she added, after a stretch. She took another deep breath, feeling herself begin to calm down again. By contrast, her arm and shoulder had begun to ache even worse. Nadine bit down on her lip, trying to will away the pain.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Mike reached up and touched her face, then ran his hand over the back of her tank top. "You're soaked through," he murmured. "We should get you out of this." He studied her face more closely. "Are you in pain?"

"...A little."

"That means a lot." Even in the dark, he could read her eerily well.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Are your pain meds still in the bathroom?"

"Mhm."

"I'll go get them. I'll be right back," he said, and dropped an affectionate kiss on her leg before rolling out of bed and heading toward the bathroom.

Nadine leaned back against the headboard carefully, closing her eyes. She heard the sound of the tap turning on and off, followed by the rattle of her prescription bottle.

Mike reappeared with a glass of water and two tablets in his hands. "Here, sweetheart." He offered her the pills first, which she placed in her mouth, and then the water, which she accepted with her good hand, swallowing it down in healthy gulps with the medicine.

She continued to take small sips of water as she watched Mike go over to her dresser and pull out a fresh set of pajamas from the bottom drawer, and then she set the glass aside as he walked over to her. Carefully, he peeled her sweat-dampened tank top off her body, maneuvering it around her sling without touching it, and then slipped the clean one over her head. He was pulling it down over her torso when she reached up to cup his face. She pulled him in and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Of course," he said, and kissed her again. "Let me strip the bed, okay? Then you can go back to sleep." He disappeared out into the hall, returning with a stack of linens.

Nadine helped as much as she could one-handed, though Mike did most of the work making up the bed. He cast the damp linens in the hamper in the corner of her room while Nadine slid herself between fresh sheets. She adjusted herself, carefully propping her bad arm on a stiff pillow at her side, and pulling the duvet up to her waist.

Mike crawled in next to her. He laid himself against her side, trying to get as close as possible without jostling her. She welcomed the solid, warm weight of him against her; it was reassuring in a way that not much else was.

He reached for her free hand and laced his fingers through hers. "Sleep tight, Nadine," he murmured, but she was already drifting away.

She slept through the rest of the night dreamlessly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations Nadine has with others in the weeks of her recovery.

**_Henry_ **

"Ma'am, I looked into the Senator's votes on the healthcare referendum, and - oh, so sorry, Dr. McCord." Nadine stopped short, having strode right into the Secretary's open office only to find that the other woman wasn't in it.

Instead, her husband had taken up residence at her desk.

Henry McCord looked up as she stood there uncertainly, half-turned to go back to her office. He smiled warmly. "Nadine. Elizabeth just stepped out to grab something from the break room. She'll be back soon."

"My apologies. I can come back later." She glanced at the takeout spread set up on the coffee table. "Lunch date?"

"Yep. While we both have a free minute."

"You're lucky; a free minute is hard to come by."

"You don't have to tell me," he said, chuckling. He stood up and rounded the desk. "But, please; stay for a second. She should be back any second, and I wanted to check on you anyway. Elizabeth told me you'd just come back to work."

"Yes; it's been a bit of an adjustment," she said, using her free hand to gesture vaguely to her imprisoned one.

"Getting shot is never any fun," he agreed sympathetically.

"You'd know all about it."

"Yep - welcome to the club. I'm glad to finally be off those miserable crutches, but, a broken collarbone..." he blew out a breath, "that's a different kind of hell." His eyes flicked to the visible evidence of her injury.

Nadine had taken to wearing exclusively high-collared blouses to work to cover up the mottled bruising that still decorated her chest. Much of it had begun to fade, but the edges of it were still visible at certain angles. Henry, always the perfect gentleman, was making a point not to stare, but Nadine knew he'd seen it all the same. "Ever break a collarbone, Dr. McCord?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Leg, a couple of fingers, fractured arm, cracked a rib once," he listed, counting them off on his hand. "Never my collarbone. Although, I'd had a buddy in the Marines who broke his. The way he screamed, you might've thought they'd cut his legs off." He regarded her sympathetically. "It's extremely painful."

Nadine inclined her head, rueful. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Hey, did Stevie get a chance to catch you?"

"Yes! She came in just the other day. She was incredibly sweet. You've raised a wonderful young woman," she said, genuinely feeling it.

Her words seemed to fill Henry with pride. "She's a good kid. And she was glad she could do that for you. Actually, Mike B had suggested that what you'd _really_ like is a great bottle of scotch, and I told Stevie that, but she seemed to think that wasn't very appropriate." His eyes twinkled.

She laughed out loud. "Maybe it would give the Vicodin a little boost."

"Well according to Elizabeth, Mike is very protective of you, so it's probably best if I _don't_ conspire with my daughter to get you ridiculously high. We'll hold off on the scotch for now." He smiled, and Nadine couldn't tell if he was still joking or not.

She was saved from having to ask when Elizabeth walked into the office, balancing a bundle of utensils and two mugs of fresh coffee in her hands. "Hey, Nadine. You two catching up?"

"We are," Henry said. He helped his wife set her items down on the table. "Coffee with your takeout?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Coffee goes with everything." She turned to look at her Chief of Staff. "Nadine, would you like to join us? Did you eat yet?"

"I've already eaten, ma'am. Thank you, though."

"Okay." And then, to her husband, the Secretary said with some amusement, "Blake's been buying her lunch and forcing her to eat it all week."

"Good man!" Henry enthused.

Nadine resisted the urge to protest, instead rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "He is relentless. I'll leave you to it, ma'am. Henry," she nodded, backing toward the door. "Enjoy your lunch."

"I'll be back with that scotch, Nadine!" Henry called after her.

* * *

**_Matt_ **

Matt realized, about an hour too late, that the report he'd been working on all afternoon and had promised to put into Nadine's hands before she went home for the day, was still sitting on his desk.

Matt swore to himself. It was already growing dark and Nadine was long gone. Barring the event of an international crisis, she'd been leaving the office at normal hours lately - a concession with which she remained compliant only because it came at the Secretary's direct request.

Matt had gotten sidetracked earlier, what with writing up a press statement for Daisy, and then sending out a memo for the Secretary, and then parsing through the climate change proposals…

He paused to take stock. This report had to be on the Secretary's desk first thing in the morning, and Nadine had been insistent about him giving her revision rights before that. (He'd complained to Daisy about this earlier that morning, but his media counterpart had just shrugged and said, "What Nadine wants, Nadine gets." It was a maxim they were all familiar with. No one argued with Nadine.) And because of the building's heavy encryption and security systems, he would not be able to send it electronically. He'd have to deliver it in person, and Nadine lived on the opposite side of town as him; it would require nearly an hour detour for him to get this stupid report to her.

Matt groaned. He considered, for the briefest of seconds, the possibility of simply ignoring Nadine's request. How many changes could she _really_ have to make, anyway? He could just plop it on the Secretary's desk on his way out and call it a night.

He discarded the idea just as rapidly as he'd conjured it. There were several reasons why it was in bad judgement, including the inevitability of Nadine's wrath, the ensuing destabilization of his job security, and the fact that at the moment she was fucking _crippled_. How heartless did he have to make things harder for her than they already were? Nadine was already writing all her notes left-handed (her distinctive scrawl messier yet somehow still legible - a fact that had impressed them all); using her legs as acrobatic arm-substitutes to balance and maneuver folders and files in meetings _and_ on the go (somewhat ridiculous to watch, but also impressive); forgoing hard liquor for her pain prescription (a sacrifice that only seemed to impress him); and, according to Jay, apparently driving everywhere one-handed.

Yeah. He could capitulate on this one measly issue. And it wasn't too late, yet; if he left now, he could have it personally delivered into her hands in the next twenty minutes, and it would be almost as acceptable as if he had actually remembered on time.

He gathered up the report and all of his things and headed out to the lobby, grabbing his phone out of the lockbox. He quickly fired off a text to Nadine's personal cell, apologizing for his forgetfulness and notifying her that he would be stopping by.

The drive was an easy one; he remembered the route, even though it had been over a year since he'd spent that night on her couch, casually snooped through her things, and ruined her frying pan.

And then he was in front of her condo with that stupid report in his hand and knocking on her door.

When Nadine answered, she was barefoot; wearing soft shorts and an old t-shirt that was at least two sizes too big for her. Matt was taken completely by surprise.

His confusion was reflected on her face as well. Nadine furrowed her brow. "Matt, what are you doing here?"

He held up the report uncertainly. "I forgot to get this to you earlier. I, uh, did text you that I was coming by to drop it off." He stared at a point somewhere just above and past her shoulder, trying not to give her attire such an obvious once-over.

"I left my phone at the office," she said, taking the thick binder from him hastily. "But thank you for the delivery."

"Um, yeah - sorry about forgetting to -" he began, but he was cut off by someone else, shouting out from the depths of her condo.

"Nadine, have you seen my shirt?"

Nadine winced.

Matt paused. He knew that voice. Didn't he?

And just as he was trying to place it, Mike B walked right into his line of sight behind her. Shirtless, towel wrapped around his waist.

Matt's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"It was on the bed but then I - ah." Mike caught sight of him at the door. "Mahoney," he greeted, looking to be much more at ease with the surprise situation than either Matt or Nadine were appearing to be - and this despite his current state of undress.

"Mike," he choked out in reply. Bewildered, his gaze darted to Nadine, who was slowly turning bright red, and then to Mike, and back to Nadine again. He took another look at her attire. "Found your shirt."

"Yeah. Me too," Mike said dryly. Matt watched him check her out without shame. "Looks better on her anyway."

Nadine pressed her lips together, looking like she would like nothing more than to sink into her polished wood floors and disappear. "Not a word of this to anyone," she warned Matt, using her low and dangerous voice, although the effect was slightly at odds with her outfit.

"Yeah, no, of course," Matt said, nodding profusely, even though he was already trying to decide who to tell first. He wondered who else at the office knew about their Chief of Staff and the Hatchet Man. None of them were dumb enough to take bets on Nadine's private life, but this was an outcome he never would have seen coming regardless. As Nadine began to close the door on him, Matt couldn't resist calling out, "Good for you, man!" The door shut firmly. Mike's reply was muffled and unintelligible.

He walked out to the elevators, riding it down to the building's parking garage in a daze. He weighed the worth of spreading this delicious morsel of gossip around their inner circle against the possibility of Nadine firing his ass at lightning speed.

Still - it might be worth it.

/

Because his luck was shit, Matt found himself in the elevator the next morning with Nadine. Alone.

She appeared to be just as uncomfortable as he was, for whatever that was worth.

"Morning, Nadine," he said with false brightness, trying to power through the awkwardness between them.

"Morning," she replied warily.

Her outfit was way more Nadine, this time. She was wearing that suit-thing that he found to be quite flattering on her.

"So," he began, "I'm sorry again about forgetting the report and showing up kind of unannounced, even though I did text -"

"Matt," she said, cutting him off, "we don't have to talk about this. Really. Ever." A flush was riding its way up her neck.

"Okay but I mean I just gotta say -"

"Matt," she warned.

"- The Hatchet Man? Seriously took me by surprise; I did not see -"

"Matt!" she said sharply.

"Hey, I'm happy for you, Nadine! Just didn't think he was your type and -"

"Are you quite done?"

"Well…" Matt trailed off, frowning as he thought about it.

"When I said we don't have to talk about this, what I meant was that I am absolutely _not_ having this conversation with you."

"Hey, come on!" he exclaimed, a little offended. "We're friends, right?"

She leaned back to look up at him incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "Not like that."

He had to concede her point. The elevators slid open on the seventh floor, and they stepped out together.

"Well… colleagues can share that kind of stuff too," he reasoned, unsure why he was still being so persistent after she'd already made herself very clear. He couldn't help it. They continued down to their block of offices. It was early, and the floor was still mostly empty.

"I don't share my private life with my colleagues," she said firmly.

"Mike is your colleague." He wanted to cringe almost as soon as he said it. Over the line, over the line.

Nadine stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "Matt, I may be crippled and half your size, but I am also half-bionic and very hard to kill. I could beat you in a fight. My purse is quite heavy and will hurt if I swing it at you. Do you understand? _Do not_ _test me on this_."

He stiffened, feeling properly chastised. "Understood."

He wanted to say that he was pretty sure she weighed about as much as a sack of flour and could probably be tossed one-handed, but for once he kept his mouth shut. Even though he was adamant that there was _no way_ she could beat him in a fight. Not that he could imagine a scenario where he would be forced to physically fight her. _If you keep provoking her, you won't have to imagine one,_ he warned himself.

"Good," Nadine said. "Now if I hear even a whisper of this floating around the office, I'll know who is responsible. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay." They were stopped in front of her office, and Nadine finally pushed open the door. She was half inside when Matt thought of something - something weird - related to what she'd said.

"Wait... what do you mean you're half-bionic?"

Nadine propped the door open with her foot and turned. "I have six screws in my collarbone, a bullet buried in my shoulder, and titanium where my hips used to be. Half-bionic."

"Wait... you have titanium… you… you have hip replacements?!"

She rolled her eyes. "Get to work, Matt," she ordered, and let the door fall closed between them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations Nadine has with others in the weeks of her recovery.

**_Daisy_ **

Daisy called her in the evening.

Nadine had remembered to grab her phone this time, and had literally just walked through the door to her place when it began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Nadine," Daisy said, sounding slightly out of breath, "have a question."

She picked up on the tone right away, and it alarmed her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"What do Braxton Hicks contractions feel like?"

"Daisy!"

"I'm fine," she said, even though Nadine could hear how much effort the other woman was putting into sounding controlled. "It's like three weeks too soon and - ah! - and I'm pretty sure…"

"How far apart are your contractions?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe five, six minutes?"

" _Go to the hospital_." Nadine put the phone on speaker and shoved it into her pocket so that she could still talk while she grabbed up her purse and put her coat back on again, going right back out the door. "I'll meet you there. Is someone with you? Are you still at the office?"

"Blake is next to me, but he doesn't know _anything_ about anything…" Nadine could practically hear Daisy rolling her eyes.

"Put him on."

There was a pause, and then Blake speaking in a rapid, panicky voice. "Hi Nadine, so she's being really scary but she told me it was going to pass and -"

"It's not going to pass. She's probably in early labor, and you need to take her to GW."

"She's in _what_?!"

"Blake, if you don't put your head on straight and _stop freaking out_ , I swear to God I'll -"

"Okay, okay, I got it, you're right. We're on our way."

Nadine took the stairs down to the parking garage, and unlocked her car. "Get her checked in, and I'll meet you there." She hung up.

She made the drive to the hospital where just a month before she'd been transported by ambulance. Funny how near-death experiences sometimes just happened.

At the welcome desk, she gave the receptionist Daisy's name, hoping that Blake might have already been able to get her checked in - and sure enough, he had. The receptionist gave Nadine a room number on the maternity floor, and when she reached the room, she knocked softly and went inside. Very quickly, she realized it was a private suite. How the hell…?

Daisy laid on the bed, propped upright and in a stark-white hospital gown. Blake was seated next to her, and currently twisting his face into pained expressions that competed with Daisy's as she squeezed the life out of his hand through a lengthy contraction.

"Hey, Nadine," Blake gasped finally. He wrenched his hand away from Daisy, trying to flex some life back into it.

"Jesus, this is the nicest room in the ward!" Nadine exclaimed.

"I may have name-dropped the Secretary in order to get it," Blake said casually. When Daisy raised her eyebrow at him, he continued, "Alright, I may have said that Daisy was carrying the Secretary's goddaughter."

"Blake!"

"Oh, don't look at me like that; MSec told me to do it!"

Daisy turned stiffly. "You didn't tell me that."

"Well, she did. And her motorcade is en route as we speak."

"Wait, what?!"

"I told her you were in labor, and she dropped everything and is rushing down here." Blake shrugged. "Her call, not mine."

"This will be the most embarrassing and undignified moment of my life," Daisy grumbled. "I can't believe that you'd -" she stopped abruptly and her hand shot out and seized on Blake's tie. He coughed and stumbled forward as Daisy groaned.

Nadine rushed forward and grasped Daisy's other hand firmly. "Breathe," she said soothingly. "It'll pass. That's it." After a minute, Daisy slowly released them both.

"As I was saying," she continued in a thin voice, "I can't believe you'd make her feel obligated to come all the way down here to watch me push a human out of my body! She's my _boss_ , for God's sake!"

"First of all," Blake said, indignant, "I don't _make_ her do anything, and second of all - I'm sorry, I panicked!"

Nadine rolled her eyes, setting her purse and coat down in the corner of the room, before coming back and settling in the chair on the other side of Daisy's bed. "We just don't want you to be alone," she said. She smoothed back Daisy's hair. "Have you called your parents?"

Daisy nodded. "They were supposed to fly out in a few weeks, but obviously baby girl is running a little ahead of schedule. They booked a flight out for tonight."

Blake's phone chirped. He checked it and said, surprised, "The Secretary's here already. And… so are Matt and Jay." He looked up. "Word travels fast, I guess."

"Oh god," Daisy said, gritting her teeth.

Nadine automatically slid her hand into Daisy's and pressed her lips together as the other woman squeezed down on it hard. Jesus, she was strong. Nadine looked up at Blake, who couldn't quite hide the relief on his face that someone else had taken up this duty. "Blake, why don't you go down and get them?" she suggested tightly. "Send the Secretary in. And you can sit out in the waiting room with Jay and Matt."

"On it," he said, and strode out of the room with a purpose.

When the contraction passed, Daisy released her hand and said, "But… it is _weird_ , right? My boss being here for my labor? She didn't even visit Jay and Abby in the hospital when Chloe was born."

Nadine shrugged one shoulder. "Well to be fair, she was pretty preoccupied with all the Iran fallout. And... Jay and Abby had each other," she added delicately.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Thanks for reminding me that I'm all alone."

"You're not," Nadine said instantly. "Daisy… I _did_ all this alone. And it was the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm not going to let you go through all this by yourself, okay? And neither is she." She stroked the back of Daisy's hand, hoping to coax a smile from the other woman.

Daisy relented. "Okay."

There was a tap on the door, and Nadine gave her a searching look. "Really okay?"

Daisy nodded.

"Come in," Nadine called, and Elizabeth's head appeared around the thick door. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"How's my goddaughter doing?!" She walked around the bed to take up the vacated seat. "Blake told me how he scored you this awesome room."

"At your request, he said," Nadine pointed out.

"Oh, yeah. And worth it, I think." She turned in her seat, inspecting the space before looking down at Daisy. "How're you feeling, champ?"

"Ready to get this over with."

"I can't wait to meet her. I think we could all go for some good, non-near-death experiences in this godforsaken hospital."

Nadine snorted. "You're telling me."

The Secretary glanced up. "Too soon?" Nadine waved away her concern.

Daisy cut in. "Just to be clear - I don't _actually_ have to make you the godmother, right?"

Elizabeth feigned affront. "Would that be so bad? I've raised three perfectly fine children in my lifetime, you know. None of them are meth addicts."

"And that's very reassuring, ma'am," Daisy said, laughing, but it turned into a pained groan halfway through and both women took hold of her hands unasked and held on tight.

"Okay, okay, okay there we go. Just breathe, Daisy," Elizabeth said soothingly.

There was another knock at the door. "Come in!" Nadine and Elizabeth called out in unison.

"Daisy Grant?" A tall man in a long white coat stepped into the room.

"Yes," Daisy gasped.

He approached the bed, and Nadine extricated her hand from Daisy's and stepped out of his way so he could approach her. "I'm Dr. Jones. Do you mind if I check you over?" He grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the shelf above the bed, slipping them on as he examined her vitals and slipped on his stethoscope.

"By all means," she said, breathing heavily. She relaxed her tight grip on Elizabeth's hand.

The doctor moved the stethoscope over her chest for a few quiet moments before hanging it back around his neck. "May I check how much you've dilated?" Daisy nodded, and he reached under her gown. "You're at about seven centimeters. You still have a little ways to go."

Daisy sighed and dropped her head back to the pillows.

"I'll be back to check on you soon, Ms. Grant. Call the nurse if you need anything. She can come find me." He pulled off his gloves and tossed them in the trash.

"Thank you, doctor."

He left the room, and Nadine resettled herself in her seat. "Water?" she asked. "Bathroom break? What do you need?"

"I need my daughter to come out," Daisy groaned.

"She's on her own schedule and she'll come out when she's good and ready," Elizabeth said.

"She's stubborn - just like her mom," Nadine added, and chuckled when Daisy glared daggers at her. To Elizabeth, she said, "We might as well get comfortable, ma'am. I have a feeling we're going to be here for a long time."

**000000**

It turned out that Nadine was right, although all things considered, it could have been much worse for much longer. Six very long hours had crawled past them, and finally their exhausted press secretary cradled an impossibly tiny infant in her arms. Daisy had never looked happier.

"Hi there," Daisy crooned. She ran a finger gently over a soft cheek, watching her new daughter reverently.

Nadine looked on, tired, but filling up with happiness. She was already hopelessly in love. She wasn't sure when - or if - she'd ever have grandchildren, but this counted, and she planned to spoil this girl rotten.

"Oh Daisy, she's perfect," Elizabeth murmured in a hushed voice.

"She is," Daisy said. "And _healthy_." She sounded awestruck, as if she couldn't believe her luck.

"What's her name?" Nadine asked gently.

Daisy was silent for a moment, and then slowly, as if testing it out on her tongue, she said, "Josephine Eleanor Grant." She paused to adjust her daughter's little hospital hat. "Josephine, after her father," she said softly, "and Eleanor, after my mother."

"Josephine," Elizabeth repeated.

Joseph Garcia, Nadine thought, would be proud.

"Josie," Daisy said. She looked up at the two women. "Would you guys like to hold her?"

Nadine gestured helplessly to her sling, then waved the opportunity over to Elizabeth. She knew she was strong enough to support the infant with one arm, but she didn't like the fact that she had _only_ one arm with which to do it. She didn't want to risk dropping her and not being able to do anything about it.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Nadine," Daisy said. Gingerly, she shifted on the mattress to create room. "Sit next to me. I'll help you."

Nadine eyed her dubiously. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. Get over here."

Nadine very carefully and hesitantly slid into bed next to Daisy, slipping out of her shoes and swinging her legs over the bedside rail and onto the mattress. Once she'd adjusted herself, Elizabeth placed a free pillow over her lap for support, and Nadine held out her good arm in a cradle over it. Daisy placed Josie against the crook of Nadine's elbow, and Nadine held the tiny bundle close to her body. Josie opened her little lips in a tiny yawn, and Nadine could physically feel her heart melting into a puddle.

"Oh hello," Nadine breathed. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart. Just like your mother." Josie's hand flexed, fingers grasping at air as she slept.

"The guys want to know if they can come in," Elizabeth said to Daisy. She held her phone in one hand, messages open. "The anticipation is killing them out there."

"Yeah, tell them to come in. Josie should meet all of her uncles."

After a long moment, Nadine reluctantly tore her eyes away from Josie's perfect little face. "Ma'am, do you want to hold her?" she asked Elizabeth. She looked up as the Secretary immediately held out her arms, and swiveled slightly so that she could scoop up the infant.

"Hey, Princess," Elizabeth said softly, cradling the tiny bundle. She began to rock back and forth unconsciously. "You are just the sweetest thing." Her words began to devolve into a string of nonsensical baby-talk, and Nadine and Daisy looked on, amused to see the most powerful woman in the world reduced so easily to a lovestruck puddle.

There was a soft tap on the door, and Daisy called out, "Come in!" and their colleagues tumbled inside.

"Shh," Nadine said gently as she first swung one leg over the bedrail, and then the other. Blake closed the door behind them softly, and Jay walked over to her and unquestioningly offered her a hand to help her off the bed. She took it and used it to pull herself to her feet. "Thanks," she said. She stepped back into her shoes.

Matt set down a large paper bag on the side table. "We brought you real food since Nadine said last time that the hospital stuff was just awful."

"Oh, bless you guys."

The three men slowly approached the Secretary, who was still holding the baby.

Elizabeth shifted, tilting her arms so they could all see Josie. The little girl was beginning to blink awake.

Matt, who was standing closest, said in wonder, "Wow."

"Her name is Josie," Daisy supplied. "Josephine Eleanor."

"Here - do you want to hold her?" Elizabeth murmured to Matt. She moved as if to transfer the baby to him when he stepped back uncertainly.

"Um," he said.

"Go ahead, Matt," Daisy said from behind them. She had settled deeper into the pillows, and the exhaustion was evident in her body. "You'll be okay."

Awkwardly, Matt held out his arms and accepted the bundle from the Secretary.

"There you go; make sure to support her head," Elizabeth said, reaching over to adjust the blanket.

"Wow, Daisy," Matt said again, soft. "You… you did a good job." Josie looked up at him with big eyes.

Daisy chuckled. "Thanks, dude."

Blake inspected her from over Matt's shoulder. "Look - she has your eyes," he said, "and maybe your nose, too."

"She's beautiful," Matt added. He turned and carefully handed her to Blake, who took her expertly.

Blake settled Josie in the cradle of his elbow and supported her one-armed while he used the other to rewrap the blanket, which had come loose, around her and tuck it in tightly. He bounced her in his arms. "There we go, baby girl." He looked up to see everyone staring at him in surprise. "...My sister's got two kids," he explained. "I babysat for her a lot… And I like babies."

"Well you can babysit for me anytime," Daisy said, delighted. "All of you."

"Hey, my turn," Jay said, tapping Blake on the arm. He scooped her up. "Congratulations Daisy," he said as he rocked Josie gently. "Chloe will be over the moon to play with this little one - when Josie is a bit older, of course."

"That sounds wonderful."

Nadine watched Daisy carefully. She could tell that as much as all the company and all the love was welcomed, the other woman was also completely exhausted, and could use a good few hours' rest at least. "Let's give baby back to mom," she said, "and give them some time to rest."

Daisy smiled at her gratefully. Jay leaned down and placed her daughter in her arms. "Let us know if you need anything, okay? Anything." He left, and Matt and Blake filed out behind him.

"I'm going to take off too," the Secretary said, reaching down to hug Daisy. "If you need something, I want you to call, okay? I don't care what time it is."

"Thank you, ma'am," Daisy said, leaning into her. Then Elizabeth gathered her things and left, too.

"Are you okay?" Nadine asked.

She nodded. "I need to feed her again and then hopefully get a little sleep when she falls asleep."

"I can stay with you," Nadine offered, but Daisy shook her head.

"Thanks, Nadine, but I'll be okay, I promise. My parents landed at Reagan National an hour ago, so they should be here any minute. You should go home. Get some rest."

"Do you need anything from your apartment?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you," she said sincerely, "for everything."

Nadine smiled, and brushed her fingers over Josie's head affectionately. "I'm here for you. Call me if you need me." She took her purse and coat and left Daisy's suite, closing the door quietly after her.

She walked the hall and rode the elevator down to the main lobby and thought about Daisy's beautiful new daughter and about what the Secretary had said, hours and hours ago. That they could all go for a 'good experience _'_ in this place. And well, if _this_ wasn't one, then Nadine didn't know what was.

She wondered if it would be enough to erase all their memories of their last one. That had been a near-disaster for her. Her shoulder and clavicle throbbed aggressively as if to agree - as if to remind her that not all instances turned out great here. She'd nearly kicked the bucket, after all. And perhaps a trauma like that could not be so easily forgotten, and a 'good experience' was perhaps not enough to overwrite that sort of pain.

But then Nadine thought of Josie's perfect little face. She thought of the visceral, tangible sensation of Daisy's maternal love. She thought of her own instantaneous and overwhelming affection for them both - her heart ached just to think of it. And right there, she reversed her stance.

She decided yes.

It absolutely was enough.


End file.
